When you see geese flying along in "V" formation, you might
     consider what science has discovered as to why they fly that way.
     As each bird flaps its wings, it creates an uplift for the bird
     immediately following. By flying in "V" formation, the whole flock
     adds at least 71 percent greater flying range than if each bird flew
     on its own.

     People who share a common direction and sense of community
     can get where they are going more quickly and easily because
     they are traveling on the thrust of one another.

     When a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and
     resistance of trying to go it alone - and quickly gets back into
     formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the bird in
     front.

     If we have as much sense as a goose, we will stay in formation
     with those people who are headed the same way we are.

     When the head goose gets tired, it rotates back in the wing and
     another goose flies point.

     It is sensible to take turns doing demanding jobs, whether with
     people or with geese flying south.

     Geese honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up
     their speed.

     What messages do we give when we honk from behind?

     Finally - and this is important - when a goose gets sick or is
     wounded by gunshot, and falls out of formation, two other geese
     fall out with that goose and follow it down to lend help and
     protection. They stay with the fallen goose until it is able to fly or
     until it dies, and only then do they launch out on their own, or with
     another formation to catch up with their group.

     If we have the sense of a goose, we will stand by each other like
     that.

                      By Source Unknown
 
      Things We Can Learn from a Dog

1. Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joy ride.
2. Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.
3. When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
4. When it’s in your best interest, always practice obedience.
5. Let others know when they’ve invaded your territory.
6. Take naps and always stretch before rising.
7. Run, romp, and play daily.
8. Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.
9. Be loyal.
10. Never pretend to be something you’re not.
11. If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
12. When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.
13. Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
14. Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
15. Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
16. On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.
17. When you are happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
18. No matter how often you are criticized, don’t buy into the guilt thing and pout. Run right back and
make friends.

                                Author Unknown
 

      Golden Rules for Living

                         If you open it, close it.
                         If you turn it on, turn it off.
                         If you unlock it, lock it up.
                         If you break it, admit it.
                         If you can't fix it, call in someone
                         who can.
                         If you borrow it, return it.
                         If you value it, take care of it.
                         If you make a mess clean it up.
                         If you move it, put it back.
                         If it belongs to someone else and you
                         want to use it, get permission.
                         If you don't know how to operate it,
                         leave it alone.
                         If it's none of your business, don't
                         ask questions.
                         If it ain't broke, don't fix it.
                         If it will brighten someone's day, say
                         it.
                         If it will tarnish someone's reputation,
                         keep it to yourself.

 
A Story I love

Bare foot and dirty, the girl just sat and watched the people go by.
>> She never tried to  speak, she never said a word. Many people passed,
>> but never did one person stop.
>>
>> Just  so happens the next day I decided to go back to the park,curious
>> if the little girl would  still be there.  Right in the very spot as she
>> was yesterday she sat perched on high, with the saddest look in her
>> eyes.
>>
>> Today I was to make my own move and walk over to the little girl.  As we
>> all know a park full of strange people is not a place for young children
>> to play alone.
>>
>> As I began walking towards her I could see the back of the little girl's
>> dress indicated a deformity.  I figured that was the reason the people
>> just passed by and made no effort to help. As I got closer, the little
>> girl slightly lowered her eyes to avoid my intent  stare.  I could see
>> the shape of her back more clearly.  It was grotesquely shaped in a
>> humped over form. I smiled to let her know it was OK, I was there to
>> help, to talk.
>>
>> I sat down beside her and opened with a simple Hello.  The little girl
>> acted shocked  and stammered a hi after a long stare into my eyes.  I
>> smiled and she shyly smiled back.  We talked 'til darkness fell and the
>> park was completely empty. Everyone was gone and we were alone.
>>
>> I asked the girl why she was so sad. The little girl looked at me and
>> with a sad face said "Because I'm different."  I immediately said "that
>> you are!" and smiled.  The little girl acted even sadder, she said, "I
>> know."
>>
>> "Little girl," I said, "you remind me of an angel, sweet and innocent."
>> She looked at me and smiled, slowly she stood to her feet, and
>> said,"Really?"
>>
>> "Yes, ma'am, you're like a little guardian angel sent to watch over
>> all those people walking by."
>>
>> She nodded her head yes and smiled, and with that she spread her wings
>> and said, "I am.  I'm your guardian angel," with a twinkle in her eye.
>>
>> I was speechless, sure I was seeing things.  She said, "For once you
>> thought of  someone other than yourself, my job here is done."
>>
>> Immediately I stood to my feet and  said, "Wait, so why did no one
>> stop to help an angel?"
>>
>> She looked at me and smiled,  "You're the only one who could see me,
>> and you believe it in your heart." And She was gone.  And with that my
>> life was changed dramatically. So, when you think you're all you have,
>> remember, your angel is always watching over you.
>>
>> Mine was...

I PROMISE I WILL ALWAYS FORGIVE YOU

 
Lisa sat on the floor of her old room, staring at the box that layin front
of her. It was an old shoe box that she had decorated to become a memory
box many years before. Stickers and penciled flowers covered the top and
sides. Its edges were worn, the corners fo the lid taped so as to keep
their shape.

 
It had been three years since Lisa last opened the box. A sudden move to
Boston had kept her from packing it. But now that she was back home, she
took the time to look again at the memories. Fingering the corners of the
box and stroking its cover, Lisa pictured in her mind what was inside.
 
 
There was a photo of the family trip to the Grand Canyon, a note from her
friend telling her that Nick Bicotti liked her, and the Indian arrowhead
she had found while on her senior class trip.
 
 
One by one, she remembered the items in the box, lingering over the
sweetest, until she came to the last and only painful memory. She knew what
it looked like--a single sheet of paper upon which lines had been drawn to
form boxes, 490 of them to be exact. And each box contained a check  mark,
one for each time.
 
 
********
 
 
"How many times must I forgive my brother?" the disciple Peter had asked
Jesus. "Seven times?" Lisa's Sunday school teacher had read Jesus'
surprise answer to the class. "Seventy times seven."
 
 
Lisa had leaned over to her brother Brent as the teacher continued reading.
"How many times is that?" she whispered. Brent, though two years younger,
was smarter than she was.

 
"Four hundred and ninety," Brent wrote on the corner of his Sunday school
paper. Lisa saw the message, nodded, and sat back in her chair. She watched
her brother as the lesson continued. He was small for his age, with narrow
shoulders and short arms. His glasses were too large for his face, and his
hair always matted in swirls. He bordered on being a nerd, but his
incredible skills at everything, especially music, made him popular with
his classmates.

 
Brent had learned to play the piano at age four, the clarinet at age seven,
and had just begun to play oboe. His music teachers said he'd be a famous
musician someday. There was only one thing at which Lisa was better than
Brent--basketball. They played it almost every afternoon after school.
Brent could have refused to play, but he knew that it was Lisa's only joy
in the midst of her struggles to get C's and D's at school.
 
 
Lisa's attention came back to her Sunday school teacher as the woman
finished the lesson and closed with prayer. That same Sunday afternoon
found brother and sister playing basketball in the driveway. It was then
that the counting had begun. Brent was guarding Lisa as she dribbled toward
the basket. He had tried to bat the ball away, got his face near her elbow,
and took a shot on the chin. "Ow!", he cried out and turned away.
 
 
Lisa saw her opening and drove to the basket, making an easy lay-up.She
gloated over her success but stopped when she saw Brent. "You okay?", she
asked. Brent shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry," Lisa said. "Really.  It was a
cheap shot." "It's all right. I forgive you," he said. A thin smile then
formed on his face.
"Just 489 more times though."

 
"Whaddaya mean?" Lisa asked.
 
 
"You know...what we learned in Sunday school today. You're supposed to
forgive someone 490 times. I just forgave you, so now you have 489 left,"
he kidded. The two of them laughed at the thought of keeping track of every
time Lisa had done something to Brent. They were sure she had gone past 490
long ago.
 
 
The rain interrupted their game, and the two moved indoors. "Wanna play
Battleship?" Lisa asked. Brent agreed, and they were soon on the floor of
the living room with their game boards in front of them. Each took turns
calling out a letter and number combination, hoping to hit each other's
ships.
 
 
Lisa knew she was in trouble as the game went on. Brent had only lost one
ship out of five. Lisa had lost three. Desperate to win, she found herself
leaning over the edge of Brent's barrier ever so slightly. She was thus
able to see where Brent had placed two fo his ships. She quickly evened the
score.

 
Pleased, Lisa searched once more for the location of the last two ships.
She peered over the barrier again, but htis time Brent caught her in the
act. "Hey, you're cheating!" He stared at her in disbelief.
 
 
Lisa's face turned red. Her lips quivered. "I'm sorry," she said, staring
at the carpet. There was not much Brent could say. He knew Lisa sometimes
did things like this. He felt sorry that Lisa found so few things she could
do well. It was wrong for her to cheat, but he knew the temptation was hard
for her.
 
 
"Okay, I forgive you," Brent said. Then he added with a small laugh, "I
guess it's down to 488 now, huh?"
 
 
"Yeah, I guess so." She returned his kindness with a weak smile and added,
"Thanks for being my brother, Brent."
 
 
Brent's forgiving spirit gripped Lisa, and she wanted him to know how sorry
she was. It was that evening that she had made the chart with the 490
boxes. She showed it to him before he went to bed. "We can keep track of
every time I mess up and you forgive me," she said.
 
 
"See, I'll put a check in each box--like this." She placed two marks in the
upper left-hand boxes.
 
 
"These are for today." Brent raised his hands to protest. "You don't need
to keep--" "Yes I do!" Lisa interrupted. "You're always forgiving me, and I
want to keep track. Just let me do this!" She went back to her room and
tacked the chart to her bulletin board.
 
 
There were many opportunities to fill in the chart in the years that
followed. She once told the kids at school that Brent talked in his sleep
and called out Rhonda Hill's name, even though it wasn't true. The teasing
caused Brent days and days of misery. When she realized how cruel she had
been, Lisa apologized sincerely. That night she marked box number 96.
 
 
Forgiveness number 211 came in the tenth grade when Lisa failed to bring
home his English book. Brent had stayed home sick that day and had asked
her to bring it so he could study for a quiz. She forgot and he got a C.
 
 
Number 393 was for lost keys...418 for the extra bleach she put in the
washer, which ruined his favorite polo shirt...449, the dent she had put in
his car when she had borrowed it.
 
 
There was a small ceremony when Lisa checked number 490. She used a gold
pen for the check mark, had Brent sign the chart, and then placed it in her
memory box.
 
 
"I guess that's the end," Lisa said.
 
 
"No more screw-ups from me anymore!" Brent just laughed.
 
 
"Yeah, right." Number 491 was just another one of Lisa's careless mistakes,
but its hurt lasted a lifetime. Brent had become all that his music
teachers said he would. Few could play the oboe better than he. In his
fourth year at the best music school in the United States, he received the
opportunity of a lifetime--a chance to try out for New York City's great
orchestra.
 
 
The tryout would be held sometime during the following two weeks. It would
be the fulfillment of his young dreams. But he never got the chance. Brent
had been out when the call about the tryout came to the house. Lisa was the
only one home and on her way out the door, eager to get to work on time.

 
"Two-thirty on the tenth," the secretary said on the phone. Lisa did not
have a pen, but she told herself that she could remember it.
 
 
"Got it. Thanks." I can remember that, she thought. But she did not. It was
a week later around the dinner table that Lisa realized her mistake.

 
"So, Brent," his mom asked him, "When do you try out?" "Don't know yet.
They're supposed to call."Lisa froze in her seat.
 

 
"Oh, no!" she blurted ou loud. "What's today's date? Quick!"
 
 
"It's the twelfth," her dad answered. "Why?"
 
 
A terrible pain ripped through Lisa's heart. She buried her face in her
hands, crying. "Lisa, what's the matter?" her mother asked.
 
 
Through sobs Lisa explained what had happened. "It was two days ago...the
tryout...two-thirty...the call came...last week." Brent sat back in his
chair, not believing Lisa.
 
 
"Is this one of your jokes, sis?" he asked, though he could tell hermisery
was real. She shook her head, still unable to look at him.
 
 
"Then I really missed it?" She nodded.
 
 
Brent ran out of the kitchen without a word. He did not come out of his
room the rest of the evening. Lisa tried once to knock on the door, but she
could not face him. She went to her room where she cried bitterly.
 
 
Suddenly she knew that she had to do. She had ruined Brent's life. He could
never forgive her for that. She had failed her family, and there was
nothing to do but to leave home. Lisa packed her pickup truck
in the middle of the night and left a note behind, telling her folks she'd
be all right. She began writing a note to Brent, but her words sounded
empty to her. Nothing I say could make a difference anyway, she thought.
 
 
Two days later she got a job as a waitress in Boston. She found an
apartment not too far from the restaurant. Her parents tried many times to
reach her, but Lisa ignored their letters. "It's too late," she wrote them
once. "I've ruined Brent's life, and I'm not coming back."
 
 
Lisa did not think she would ever see home again. But one day in the
restaurant where she worked she saw a face she knew. "Lisa!" said
Mrs.Nelson, looking up from her plate. "What a surprise."
 
 
The woman was a friend of Lisa's family from back home. "I was so sorry to
hear about your brother," Mrs. Nelson said softly.
 
 
"Such a terrible accident. But we can be thankful that he died quickly. He
didn't suffer." Lisa stared at the woman in shock.
 
 
"Wh-hat," she finally stammered.
 
 
It couldn't be! Her brother? Dead? The woman quickly saw that Lisa did not
know about the accident. She told the girl the sad story of the speeding
car, the rush to the hospital, the doctors working over Brent. But all they
could do was not enough to save him.
 
 
Lisa returned home that afternoon.

 
********
 
 
Now she found herself in her room thinking about her brother as she held
the small box that held some of her memories of him. Sadly, she opened the
box and peered inside. It was as she remembered, except for one
item--Brent's chart. It was not there. In its place, at the bottom of the
box, was an envelope. Her hands shook as she tore it open and removed a
letter.
 
 
The first page read:
 
 
Dear Lisa,
 
 
It was you who kept count, not me. But if you're stubborn enough to keep
count, use the new chart I've made for you.
 
 
Love,
Brent
 
 
Lisa turned to the second page where she found a chart just like the one
she had made as a child, but on this one the lines were drawn in perfect
precision. And unlike the chart she had kept, there was but one check mark
in the upper left- hand corner. Written in red felt tip pen over the entire
page were the words:

"NUMBER 491. Forgiven, FOREVER."

$20 an Hour

 A man came home from work late,  tired and irritated, to find his  5-year old son waiting for him at the door.

 "Daddy, may I ask you a question?"
 "Yeah sure, what is it?"
 "Daddy, how much do you make an  hour?"
 "That's none of your business. Why  do you ask such a thing?" the man  said angrily.
 "I just want to know. Please tell  me, how much do you make an hour?"  pleaded the little boy.

 "If you must know, I make $20 an  hour."
 "Oh," the little boy replied, with  his head down. Looking up, he   said,  "Daddy, may please borrow $10?"
 The father was furious, "If the only  reason you asked that is so you  can borrow some money to buy a silly toy  or some other nonsense, then you  march yourself straight to your room  and go to bed. Think about why you are  being so selfish. I work long hard hours  everyday and don't have time for such  childish  behaviour."

 The little boy quietly went to his  room and shut the door. The man sat  down and started to get even  angrier  about the little boy's questions.

 How dare he ask such questions only  to get some money? After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think he may have been a little hard on his son. May be there was something he really needed to buy with that $10, and he really didn't ask for money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door.
 "Are you asleep, son?" he asked
 "No Daddy, I'm awake," replied the boy
 "I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on your earlier," said the man.

 "It's been a long day, and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's that $10 you asked for."
 The little boy sat straight up,
 smiling, "Oh, thank you Daddy!" he yelled.

 Then reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills. The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry again.
 The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at his father.

 "Why do you want more money if you already have some?" the father grumbled.
 "Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the little boy replied.

 "Daddy, I have $20 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you."

 Share this story with someone you like . but even better, share $20 worth of  time with someone you love. It's just a short reminder to all of you working so hard in life. We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts.

My own compositions:

Sara and Suzy (a short tale)